The Drowning of Arthur Braxton. Caroline Smailes

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СКАЧАТЬ their healing, ’cause I know how they get all into it and they don’t know what’s going on about them. I’m trying to be invisible right next to the changing cubicles and I reckon it’s working, ’cause no one’s shouted at me to bugger off yet. Madame Pythia, Silver and some lass I’ve not seen before are starkers, I mean they’re fully naked in the water.

      But none of that even matters. ’Cause the shape of Silver’s face has just changed.

      I mean it’s altered, I swear he’s stopped being Silver and, apparently, instead he’s a bloke called Simon who the lass in the water once shagged in a former life. I’m thinking this is like some dodgy remake of Ghost and trying not to freak.

      A few minutes ago Madame Pythia was giving it all about showing the way to ‘reverting the body of his spirit from a former life’ and then Silver’s face stopped being Silver’s face. The lass who was being healed, her and Silver were treading water next to each other in the middle of the pool. Next thing, the lass let out the biggest scream ever and swam through the water to hug Silver. Silver hugged her back and then they snogged, with tongues, proper snogging. Madame Pythia had to pull them apart. That’s when I started giggling, ’cause that’s what I sometimes do when I’m freaked out. And that’s why I’m blinking now and blinking some more to make sure that it’s not my eyes playing tricks.

      I mean I’m tired, it’s been a long shift, it’s the last appointment of the day, but none of my blinking’s making any difference. And now a proper beautiful white light’s surrounding Madame Pythia. Again, I’m blinking and, again, I’m blinking a bit more. I even use my fingers to stretch my eyes wide open. Maybe I’m confused or maybe I’m coming down with chicken pox. I know I’m not though, least I don’t think I am. I wonder if it’s the vapours off the water, I wonder if they mess with your head and make you see stuff that can’t possibly be real. None of this makes sense to me.

      ’Cause now Madame Pythia’s face is changing too. Ada Harvey said Madame Pythia could do that, she said how sometimes Madame Pythia allowed several spirits to ‘manifest on her ugly face’. Ada said that one of the spirits she’d seen was her grandmother who’d passed when Ada was a little lass. But this is the first time I’m seeing it with my own eyes. I’m shaking, I’m so confused. I mean it’s crazy, but I don’t think I ever thought it was real. I mean, if I’m honest, I thought the folk who came here were all nutters, that they saw and heard what they needed to see and hear to make their lives better. But now, I mean right now, I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not no more.

      The other day I asked Madame Pythia why so many people came to The Oracle and she said, ‘After a long period of spiritual sleep and materialism, humans are finally awakening and opening their minds to new experiences.’ And then, ‘Humans are beginning to realise what I have known since birth, that materialism is not the answer.’ I remember nodding my head, not really listening ’cause she was going on a bit. I remember thinking she was off her face and wondering why they charged so much for each session, if it wasn’t about the money.

      But that was all before I realised she could do proper freaky shit with her face. My head’s all over the place now and that’s when I hear the lass speaking.

      ‘I have been told that there are dark demons smothering me,’ she says.

      ‘Who spoke such words to you?’ Madame Pythia shouts across the pool. They’ve swam apart a bit while I’ve been freaking out.

      ‘A friend,’ the lass says.

      ‘A friend! A friend! What rot! You should choose your friends with more care and consideration, my dear!’

      I watch as Madame Pythia swims to the lass, lifts her hands and places them on the lass’s face. Madame Pythia then closes her eyes and doesn’t speak a word. I’m looking at the lass, she looks scared. I wish I could help her, but then I remember that she’s paying for this mental stuff.

      ‘Open your eyes,’ Silver says, even though his face isn’t his face still and even though he’s now clutching the edge of the pool opposite me. And that’s when Madame Pythia opens her eyes and turns her head to stare at Silver. She stares for a good few minutes, still with her hands on the lass’s face and by this stage the lass’s sobbing like our Sammy does when he’s had a nightmare.

      Madame Pythia turns back to her.

      ‘I can see clearly, my dear.’

      ‘But I fear that dark demons are there,’ the lass says. She’s still crying but at least the sobbing has stopped now.

      ‘My dear, I will speak only the truth to you. I can see that there are spirits that are dark and that they stay close to you.’

      That’s when the lass gasps. And that’s when I gasp too. Silver stares at me, but it’s like his eyes don’t recognise who I am. He doesn’t speak.

      Madame Pythia continues, ‘Do not have fear, my dear. I can tell you that those spirits are aching, in anguish, in such deep misery. It is true that they are near to you, that they see your energy, but still they cannot touch you. They cannot become you. I can see that you do not recognise the power that you hold within yourself.’

      That’s when the lass falls below the water and that’s when Silver turns back to being Silver, lets go of the edge of the pool and dives under the water to rescue her. He pulls her back above the surface and over to the side of the pool. She’s all spluttering but that doesn’t stop Madame Pythia from continuing with her speech.

      ‘They cannot climb onto you,’ she shouts, she’s treading water and raising both of her arms out of the pool and up towards the ceiling. ‘It is true that they seek to scratch your surface, yet beneath this fragile outer layer there is a vast reservoir of light. Close your eyes, relax, try to draw upon it.’

      Silver’s holding the lass with one arm and clinging to the edge of the pool with his other hand. The lass leans her head back, onto him, then she lets her legs lift up into the water. She’s floating, she looks calm.

      ‘Even if you cannot look into this light within my presence, know that this reservoir will be there to guide you when you are open to accepting that you are deserving of happiness, of goodness.’

      Madame Pythia pauses, she locks eyes with the lass and that’s when Madame Pythia declares, ‘It is time, we must end this session’, and she swims to the side of the pool.

      And that’s when I run to the doors, swing them open and run to my desk. I know I’ve been seen and that I’ll probably get a bollocking later, but it was worth it.

       His Love Story:

      Next day I’m at my desk, struggling to complete a piece of GCSE coursework. I’m too close to the deadline and that’s making me panic even more. It’s English language, it’s a love story, and mainly I’m struggling ’cause I don’t really think I believe in love. I mean, it’s not like my mum has found her happily-ever-after and it’s not like any of the women who come here are celebrating amazing marriages. Everyone moans about their husbands and their partners and their kids. I don’t think I know anyone who’s in love, I mean not like I read about in all Madame Pythia’s books. And that’s why I’m struggling.

      That’s when Martin comes up to the desk, he’s on a fifteen-minute break before his drop-in sessions start. As usual he СКАЧАТЬ